Bowling for House
by StephalewANDhugh
Summary: LAST CHAPTER! Everyone’s heard of Bowling for Dollars. Well, this story is like that. What happens when the doctors can’t decide on the correct diagnosis for a patient so they settle it in a very unconventional way! Nonshipper
1. Chapter 1

Everyone's heard of Bowling for Dollars. Well, this story is Bowling for House.

This story is what happens when the doctors can't decide on the correct diagnosis for a patient so they settle it in a very unconventional way…they bowl for it!

This chapter leaves off at one more vote needed which will determine the diagnosis. But it doesn't go the way House wants.

Tune in for Chapter Two!!!!!

Let me know if you like??? Thanks

**BOWLING FOR HOUSE**

**CHAPTER ONE**

… One, two, three, four steps approaching the foul line…body is in perfect bowling stature…arm is taken back behind him then brought before him. The ball is released.

All eyes of the group standing in the pit of the bowling alley are on the ball. It glides down the lane, heading directly for the center pin, although slightly off, which is where he wants it.

He holds his breath as it nears the head pin … nearer … nearer … nearer …

_THE DAY BEFORE:_

"It is not," Chase said defiantly. "It can't be liver failure. The creatnine levels are normal and the HGB is low, indicating a properly functioning liver."

"But the Hematocrit is off the charts and Basophils is too low at 3.28. It's definitely liver failure. The patient needs a new liver," Foreman argued.

Cameron sat and watched her two coworkers go back and forth for the next hour about the patient's diagnosis. She was on Chase's side but she didn't want Foreman and her boss to think she was just because they were "knocking boots" in the sleeping lab or in the janitor's closet, or anytime she was in the mood, which was always lately. But she enjoyed watching the two go at each other.

"Dr. Cameron, what do you think?" House asked, making his first comment since he'd walked in at the start of the two doctor's argument an hour earlier.

She looked at him perplexed because he'd been sitting across from her at the conference table wearing headphones, settled back in the chair and had his eyes closed.

"How could you hear us with that blaring in your ears?" she asked.

House gave her an 'I know all' look then said, "I read lips."

"But your eyes were … never mind. I think with the AST being normal and everything that Chase said, that the patient does _not _have liver damage," Cameron told him.

House's eyebrow rose, he sat up in the chair, took off the headphones and walked to the white diagnosis board.

He wrote on one half of the board:"Creatnine-norm, HGB-low, Hematocrit, Basophils"

He then wrote on the other half:"fever, stomach & back pain, sweats, smelly, blood in urine, bloody stools"

At the bottom of the board he wrote:"No liver failure - Chase/Cameron"

On the next line he wrote:"Liver failure - 4man/me"

"Crap! It's tied. We need some more votes here," House said discouraged.

Just then, Wilson walked into the room. With all eyes on him, he suddenly became self-conscious and asked, "What did I do? House did it! Not me! I was in the …"

"Shut up," House told him. "Liver failure or no liver failure? That is the question!" House asked, throwing his hand up in the air pointing his forefinger, as if he were citing a poignant Shakespearean line.

"You expect me to diagnose the patient only by what you've listed here? What am I? Super-doc?" Wilson said with a laugh.

"No. You're Super Oncologist! Cameron here is Shag Woman; Foreman is Hood Man and Chase is Shag Woman's Slave Boy."

No one in the room laughed. House sighed heavily, walked to Cameron's side, grabbed the patient's chart and handed it to Wilson. House wrinkled his eyebrows up and down, a silent-thought-transport system that House hoped Wilson would pick up on to mean, 'vote for me!'

"Liver failure or not?" House asked again.

"Uh, let me read this, "Snark Man!" Wilson said, exaggerating his voice for dramatic effect, but it came out with a little _too _much drama.

This time the triplets did laugh but House didn't. He was dead serious. He didn't like to be wrong. And what was worse than that was someone who didn't vote his way when he needed them to.

After a few minutes of Wilson reviewing the chart, he said, "No liver failure."

"WILSON!" House shouted, louder than he thought it would come out. "You were supposed to vote on _my _side!"

"Oh, is that why you were making those funny faces? Sorry, my bad," Wilson said with a smirk. "Thought you were having a seizure from too much vicodin."

"No…no…no…" House mumbled, his face to the floor, as he headed for the door after he grabbed his cane..

"Where are you going?" Cameron asked.

"You ask too many questions," he told her as he reached for the door handle.

"I know. Where are you _going_?" she asked again.

"To get Cuddy's vote…I mean opinion," he said as he walked through the door and it shut behind him.

"Oh, no you don't!" all three said as they, too, headed for the door, with Chase pulling the white board behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

House, Foreman and Cameron barged into Cuddy's office while Wilson held the door open so that Chase could wheel in the diagnostic white board.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" Cuddy demanded to know.

"Uh, we need you, boss," House said as he sat down in the only chair across from her desk, forcing the others to stand, as the couch was out having the leather repaired.

"_Liver failure_ or no liver failure?" House asked, emphasizing the answer he wanted, 'liver failure.'

"What are you talking about, House?" she asked confused.

House gave Cuddy the same facial expressions he gave Wilson so she'd vote for liver failure.

"House, lay off the vicodin. You're having an epileptic seizure," she said as she put down her pen on the papers she had been working on.

"That's what _I_ told him!" Wilson said.

"Dr. Cuddy, as you see here these are the symptoms of the patient," Chase said seriously, as Cameron did the game show 'chick-pointing to the item' routine.

"Do these symptoms and test results in this folder Chase hands her the folder conclude the patient has NO liver failure?"

"OBJECT! LEADING THE WITNESS!" House screamed out.

Cuddy didn't even acknowledge what he'd said but she did hear him. After she looked over the patient's paperwork and perused the board she said, "Liver failure."

"Dr. Cuddy, no _way_!" Chase objected, with Cameron repeating the same verdict.

"HAH! I was right! Liver failure!" House said, pleased with himself he'd actually 'won' an argument. "Liver failure! Liver failure!" House started to chant, throwing his fist up in the air. "I'd do a victory dance but I have a bum leg. Cameron, can you dance for me? A lap dance would be nice."

"House, shut _up_!" Cuddy ordered.

"Looks like we tied there, Snark Man!" Wilson told him teasingly.

"Huh? Wha…" House asked as he looked at the board.

"_No liver failure - Chase/Cameron/Wilson"_

"_Liver failure - 4man/me"_

Foreman wrote down the word '/Cuddy' right after '4man/me.' Indeed, it was now tied, three to three.

"Oh, booger," he mumbled.

"What are you going to do about the patient now, _boss_?" Wilson asked House smugly.

"There's only one thing we _can_ do, people! Bowl for the correct diagnosis!"

"Oh, my god. It is official! You are now clinically insane!" Cuddy proclaimed.

"You're just finding this out now?" House sniggered as he stood and reached for her phone.

He dialed a few numbers before Cuddy pressed the phone rest down, disconnecting the call.

"Who are you calling?" she asked him.

"I hope it's a psychiatrist," Chase whispered, but not quiet enough; House heard him and threw a paper weight at him, which luckily landed beside Chase's right foot.

"You have three of my clinic hours, Shag Woman's Slave Boy!" House told him before he spoke into the phone.

"Two lanes – tomorrow at 1:00 p.m. under the name House; it's a matter of life and death," House said then hung up the phone.

"Dr. Cuddy, do you think we can still visit him in the insane asylum?" Cameron asked seriously, but then broke out in a huge smile.

Chase ran out of Cuddy's office crying like a baby and screaming that he was going to sue the hospital and make sure House never worked in any hospital in the world ever again!

Okay, he didn't really, but that's what House envisioned he _would_ have done.

And then House left for the day. He went home and practiced how to bowl with his bum leg. It was easier than he thought it would be.

Of course, that was only after _three_ vicodin at 7.5mg each and two shots of Scotch.

He could do it! He _would _beat Chase, Cameron and Wilson.

The patient _did_ have liver damage!

And Dr. Gregory House would prove it when he beat their asses at bowling!!!

_THE NEXT DAY … _

The gang had been hanging around the 2-single chairs that sat in front of the electronic consul for the past fifteen minutes and House still wasn't there. They already had their shoes on, balls chosen and placed in the ball return 'circle', beers at the table behind them and they were ready to go.

Foreman had his own bowling ball – it was black with 'Boy From the Hood' scripted on it with a skull;

Chase chose an alley ball with the only weight he could handle – a pink one, size 10;

Cameron chose an alley ball, too, a bright red one;

Cuddy also brought her own bowling ball – a multi-colored blue one with 'Bloody Cuddy' fancily inscripted on it; and

Wilson also had his own ball – a green one with 'Blonde Jewish Leprechaun' block-printed on it.

"Oh, Chase! Tell me that pink one isn't yours!" Foreman teased as he walked back to the table and took a long sip of beer.

"Foreman, keep on drinking! It'll improve your bowling game. We're right! The patient isn't in liver failure!" Chase shot back.

"Yeah, the pink ball _is_ Chase's," Cameron said as she joined Foreman at the table. "It figures. Poor guy can't get a break." she whispered.

"Seems you've given him _plenty_ of breaks," Foreman teased.

She gave him an exasperated look then turned to look at the entrance to see if House had walked in, but he hadn't.

"If he doesn't show up he loses by default!" Cuddy added as she, too, joined them at the table.

"Cuddy, do you realize he's on _your_ side?" Wilson asked as he walked up behind her.

"Oh, yeah, right. I'm making this personal, aren't I?" she asked with a laugh.

Everyone laughed with her until Chase saw House walk toward their table, so Chase walked up and joined the others. But something was different about House. They just kept staring at him trying to figure out what was different about him.

OH! He wasn't using his cane, but he still walked with a little limp – nothing as severe as he normally limped.

He looked at them as he approached them, as if daring them to challenge him, for some unknown cause.

"Let's get this over with so we can go back to the hospital and get the patient a new liver since he's suffering from liver failure," House said as he walked past the group and down into the pit.

The others followed him trying to ignore the fact that he wasn't limping badly, which only bothered Chase, Cameron and Wilson. That was because House was the opponent's handicap player, more than figuratively speaking, of course. On the flip side, Chase was 'no liver failure' side's handicap player, as Chase only bowled twice in his life.

They hadn't set the exact rules of the game yet, but only agreed upon Cuddy making the final rules, which pleased House to no end.

He just had to have his own way, like a spoiled child.

But a brilliant, spoiled child.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

"We're gonna beat you!" House chanted repeatedly. "We're gonna _beat_ you! Bah-hah-hah-ha-ha-ha!"

"Look, you have a bum leg, Cuddy has a _slight_ chance of winning and Foreman…well, we'll see what he has," Chase shot back.

"Thanks there, Chase," Foreman teased.

"Hey, don't think just because I'm a cripple doesn't mean I can't kick your asses!" House threatened. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the bottle of vicodin and took three, although no one really noticed how many he took.

"All right, all right. Stop it, children. The only thing I could think of that was fair was to pick names," Cuddy told the gang as they stood around her. She reached into a duffle bag and pulled out two small hats, six pieces of paper folded in hat and threw them into the hats.

"Oh, how original," House sniggered.

Cuddy smiled but continued to explain. "You guys get the hat with our names and vice versa." She handed one hat to Chase, then the other hat to Foreman. "Someone on each team pick a piece of paper."

Before Cuddy got the sentence out, House reached in and picked out a piece of paper. "Cameron…ughh."

"Oh, great! Okay, I pick," Cameron said as she reached and pulled out a piece. She unfolded the paper and said, "Foreman."

"Okay, the first game is Cameron and Foreman. Grab your balls and get going!" Cuddy said with a cheerful plea.

"Oh, Cuddy! We can't do that in public. But maybe in like an hour we can go out back and…" House sniggered. "…maybe it'll make you bowl better."

Cuddy rolled her eyes and sat back while everyone else, but Cameron and Foreman, sat down.

Twenty minutes later the game was over. Cameron beat Foreman by thirty pins.

"Foreman! What's your problem?!" House screamed. "You let a _girl_ beat you?"

"Oh, House. So sorry! Guess that means women are better than men!" Cameron said.

Cuddy handed the hats out again. House picked a piece out and read the name, Wilson.

Wilson reached into the hat and picked out a piece as well.

"House. I bowl against House?" Wilson said then turned to Cameron. "Looks like we'll win this one, too!"

"Oh, confident are you?" House said then turned and walked away.

"Are you chicken?? Where are you going?" Wilson shouted.

"I have to go to the bathroom."

Ten minutes later…

"Oh, this is crazy!" Chase said frustrated. "Foreman, go in and get your team mate, will ya?"

"No way. If he's in there that long I'm not going anywhere _near_ that bathroom door."

"Oh, please," Wilson sighed. "I'll get him."

Wilson pushed open the bathroom door and saw only one pair of feet under the stalls.

"House! Come on! Do you need a laxative?" Wilson said jokingly.

The toilet flushed and House walked out, smugly looking at Wilson before he washed his hands. Wilson noted House still wasn't walking with a limp as severe as he normally did.

"Are you having a good day with the pain today? Next thing we'll see is you running down the alley head first into the head pin."

"Uh, no. I've got a secret weapon."

"Care to share?"

"Nope."

Back on the lanes, both House and Wilson wanted the other to go first so they could bowl the last frame, therefore giving them a chance to win the game, if it ended up being extremely close.

"Oh, come on, boys!" Cuddy said exasperatedly. "Here. I'll flip a coin. Wilson, you're heads. House, you're tails."

"No! I wanna be heads!" House whined.

"Tough," Cuddy said as she flipped the coin in the air and caught it, flipping it over onto the table. "House, you're up first."

"Crap. Don't I get a handicap of like, 20 pins?"

"No, now bowl," Cuddy demanded.

"Meanie."

House walked to the ball rack, limped heavily but looked under control, picked up his ball, walked slowly to the foul line, aimed at the third arrow from the right and released the ball. He then slipped his hand into his right pant pocket.

The ball headed for the head pin and the pin to the right – a perfect curve ball.

Several seconds later - strike.

"Ah-hah!!!" House said as he turned proudly and walked back to the seats and sat down arrogantly.

"Whoah, I'm impressed," Chase said.

"Hey, handicapped people can do anything they want to!" House told him then stuck out his tongue.

Wilson threw his ball, leaving 9 but picked it up for the spare.

"Oh, that wasn't a strike, Jimmy," House teased. "So sorry."

For every strike either House or Wilson got, the other matched it within one to two pins for the spare. The game ended with House winning, 146 to 132.

"Don't worry, Wilson. You're still a winner in my eyes," House teased then winked at him. He headed back to the bathroom but no one said anything to him.

"Okay. That leaves me and Chase," Cuddy said.

After House returned, Cuddy stood, grabbed a rag and wiped the excess oil from the ball, massaged her left palm with a resin bag and approached the foul line.

"Uh, Cuddy. You're kinda making me hawt massaging that bag," House said.

"House, you need to be quiet so I can concentrate," she told him.

"That's what you said the other night."

She gave him a sly grin, prepared herself and bowled a strike.

"Oh, Cuddy! WAH! Way to go! Let's do the wave!" House screamed. Several bowlers from the next lane gave him a dirty look. "Sorry. I forgot she has a _great _set of bowling balls in the back of her pants and when she bent over …"

"House! Shut UP!"

"Come on, Chase. It won't be so bad. Just concentrate," Cameron cheered him on.

Cameron heard House snigger and looked at him.

"Way to support your honey," House whispered.

"Hey, he said he's only bowled twice before. Be nice," she told him.

"Never. CHASE! Get a gutter ball!" he screamed.

Chase walked slowly and deliberately to the foul line, brought his hand back and released the ball … and it flew back behind him, landing loudly with a thud before rolling off the lane.

House burst out laughing. "Oh, gawd, we've got this game! Liver failure. You should just admit defeat now so we can get back to the hospital."

"House, shut UP!" everyone yelled, including the bowlers on the lane next to them.

House turned to the other bowlers, grinned and said, "If you think he bowls good you should see him with a scalpel! He works at Princeton Plainsboro. Just ask for him. He'll have you cured in _no time_."

Cuddy was beating Chase badly by the fifth frame. But when it was her turn and as she released the ball she yelped in pain. She grabbed her left hand and massaged her middle finger, cursed loudly then turned and headed back.

"Chase, Cuddy needs a doctor!" House bellowed.

With Cuddy's injured bowling finger, she bowled poorly the rest of the game. Chase, on the other hand, did surprisingly well. He ended up beating Cuddy by 45 pins.

"Oh, that was t_errible_," Cuddy whined. "I need a beer."

"Okay, so, let's see," Wilson said as he sat down at the score panel. "Cameron won the first game. House won the second game, but he shouldn't have. And Chase won the third one. So, that leaves…"

"Cameron and House," Foreman chimed in.

"Exact a-moondo!" House said.

He slyly stood up and walked over to Cameron. She looked at him suspiciously. He put his hand out and helped her stand.

"You know, just because I'm a gentleman doesn't mean I'm going to let you win," House told her.

She looked intensely at him. "Oh, I plan to win by skill, not by pity," she scoffed then smiled.

"Well, we'll see about that," House said as he turned and walked to the bathroom.

Cameron sighed and said, "Oh, no. Not again."

Several minutes later House returned and had a guilty expression on his face.

"What have you been up to?" Foreman asked.

"About 6'3", give or take an inch," House said.

And the game was on: Cameron and House were left to battle it out.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

"No…NO! There is NO way you could have beat me, House!" Cameron shouted as she walked over to where he was sitting and put her hands on her hips, glaring down at him. "I have 7 trophies at home since I was 12 and there's just no way you could have beat me that badly. You matched every frame I had!"

"Well, I did beat you, so get over it," he retorted as he stood and walked up the two steps to go 'you know where' by now.

"Don't walk a way from me! After all, you MAJORLY cheated!" she stated. "You're…you're…"

House stopped dead in his tracks and turned to look at her. "I'm _what, _Cameron?" he asked very authoritatively and threatening, with no smile on his face whatsoever.

"Uh, well, you're my boss, for one, and you're…you're…"

The expression on his face was at first unreadable except for the anger, but a smile crossed her lips when she finally decoded his expression.

"…drunk. That's why you've been going to the bathroom before you bowl!"

House let out a boisterous laugh that surprised Cameron. It was a genuine laugh, something she nor his coworkers ever heard from him, well, aside from Wilson. Then he let out a fake, loud hiccup.

"Oh, please. Go put my ball through the shining machine thingie while I, uh, finish off my liquor."

"UMPHH! I'd _love _to put his balls through the shining machine thingie! He _so_ cheated and I'm gonna prove it!" she said as she turned and headed to the desk.

She asked the clerk a few questions, was given something by the clerk, turned around extremely satisfied and tore laser beams at House, who had returned from the bathroom. He quickly turned his head in the opposite direction, avoiding her gaze.

"Okay, House and Chase, "Cuddy started. "This is IT! It is up to you two men… ur, child nodding to House and man…a patient's life is on the line! Chase, if you win, and I know you won't, we will _not_ treat the patient for liver failure and find another reason for his illness. House, on the other hand, if you win, we treat the patient for liver failure. Are you two ready?!"

"Ready as I'll ever be," House said confidently.

"Uh, yeah," Chase said, less confidently.

As Chase stood to make the first throw, and right before he released the ball, House sneezed at a decibel of 4,000 megahertz. Chase jumped, his body teased then threw the ball, his concentration totally blown…straight into the gutter of next lane.

Chase turned and gave House a dirty look but didn't say anything. He walked back to the ball return and waited for his ball, feeling his face burning hot and knowing it was red with anger. He stood at the foul line, straightened his back, approached the foul line and picked up all ten pins for a spare.

"Ah! That was a strike!" Chase said proudly as he walked back and sat on the chair opposite House.

"That was the second ball, therefore it _wasn't_ a strike."

"It would have been a strike if you would have kept your mouth shut!" Chase said then he smiled.

House got his ball, approached the foul line and threw a perfect ball down the center of the lane, sticking his hand into his right pant pocket again. All of a sudden, the ball took a 45 degree turn and barely clipped the 10 pin, resulting in only one pin fall.

When House turned around, his face was furious, but not at anyone in particular. He ignored the jitters and jeers from the gang and threw his second ball, repeating exactly his first ball.

"What the hell?!" he cursed after the ball did the same thing.

He turned and looked at each doctor, trying to determine who had been messing with his ball. Of course, if he asked, he'd blow his cover.

And he wasn't about to blow it.

Chase threw his second ball and waited anxiously. Nothing happened; the ball hit the head pin for a strike.

"There! THAT was a strike!" Chase told House triumphantly as he sat down.

House rose - followed through on the ball, put his hand in his pocket and watched it head down the lane. He held his breath. It headed for the head pin. He took a breath…and the ball came to a complete stop right in front of the head pin.

House looked at the pins perplexed. He turned around quickly, looking for nothing in particular, and out of the corner of his eye saw Chase with a _huge_ grin on his face. He narrowed his eyes at him as he waited for Cuddy to call in for help from the 'mice' in the back alley.

The second ball was just as supernatural as the first: it stopped completely halfway down the lane then slowly reversed momentum and came right back at House, who was still standing at the foul line. He watched it roll by him and settle under a chair in the pit.

"This isn't right…this shouldn't be happening," House said.

He turned and headed back to the seats.

"House, what's the matter? What isn't right?" Cuddy asked seriously. She looked confused, too, as well as Foreman.

House shook his head without saying anything as he sat down. Suddenly and quietly he stood and headed to the reception desk. He reached into his pocket, pulled out something small and handed it to the clerk. He looked it over and handed it back, shrugging his shoulders.

Chase had just thrown a strike ball when House returned to the group.

House was losing, very badly. The score? 1 strike vs 1 pin. It was only the 2nd frame – there were 8 more to go! House felt sick to his stomach.

_This wasn't supposed to happen like this! Sam said it would work! Damnit!_

House approached the foul line, released the ball, put his hand in his pocket and got a strike. When he turned around he wore the biggest satisfied smile on his face.

"How was _that_? Prettiest strike you've ever seen!" House said arrogantly and proudly as he sat down.

"Oh, please, you're not _that_ good," Chase sniggered.

The next frame, Chase got a strike; House got a zinger…two pins.

House ran to the bathroom for a 'ten minute potty break', with five very angry bowlers on the lane when he returned.

The next frame, Chase got an 8-split; House got a strike.

It continued like that – in some frames balls rolling all over the place as if possessed – until the 10th frame. Chase got 9 pins but missed the spare. His final score was 168.

House's score was 142 and he was quite confident he could bowl three strikes in a row to win the liver failure diagnosis. He didn't need three strikes in a row; though, he only needed two strikes and 7 pins to beat Chase.

House was just preparing to release the ball in the 10th frame when he suddenly felt something hit him semi-hard between his shoulders. When the ball slipped from his fingers, the ball sailed in the air down the lane, landing a quarter of the way down the lane with a loud thud right along the farthest arrow on the right.

Chase, Cameron and Wilson all burst out laughing, until House put his right hand in his pocket and the ball mysteriously regained control and headed for the head pin, resulting in a strike. When House turned around, he noticed the air was chalky and thick. He took a step and landed on a resin bag. He picked it up and headed back to the ball return.

"Oh, you all think you are _so _smart, huh?! I got a steee-RIKE!! Just what you all didn't want me to get…"

House saw Chase whisper to Cameron and stopped to listen.

"You're controlling that thi…"

Chase was furious, but House didn't know why. He figured they were having a lover's spat or something. He threw his second ball, ending with his hand in his pocket.

Again, it was a strike.

This time, Chase was screaming louder.

"Give it to me! You're not supposed to let him…"

"Will you two _please _keep it down! I am about to kick a British bum!" House shouted.

"House! For the last time, I am NOT British!"

"Your ancestors were, so that _makes _you British by blood! Now SHUT UP and let me get this strike!"

House prepared to bowl his final ball…

_PRESENT DAY_

… One, two, three, four steps…approaching the foul line…body is in perfect bowling stature…arm is taken back behind him then brought before him. The ball is released.

All eyes of the group standing in the pit of the bowling alley are on the ball. It glides down the lane, heading directly for the center pin, although slightly off, which is where he wants it.

He holds his breath as it nears the head pin … nearer … nearer … nearer …


	5. Chapter 5

_**Okay, thanks for all the reviews! I wasn't planning on making this a long story so this is the last chapter. **_

_**And, you'll find out about the patient they were battling over. Steph **_

**CHAPTER FIVE**

…SIX PINS! House only knocks down six pins and he needS seven to win. And with the last ball of the game, Chase beats House.

The diagnosis: Patient does _not _have liver failure.

House doesn't turn around at first. He just stands and stares at the pins, even after they are reset and his ball is returned. He hears victory cheers from the pit, lots of hand slapping with hi-fives and one loud moan, which he knows is Cuddy from back in college…

House takes a deep breath and slowly turns around, looks at his feet and starts to walk back to the pit. He sits down in the chair next to Foreman, both lower their heads and sulk.

"We beat you…we BEAT you! HA! You just aren't _that_ good, Dr. House!" Chase shouts with glee.

Cameron sits quietly in the chair, but wears a smile on her face.

"Okay, tell me how you did it," House demands.

"Well, I was wrong about the 'you were drunk' part," Cameron starts to say. "The clerk told me you have a remote in your pocket, which controls the ball while it goes down the alley; said you gave him $500 for the 'magic ball' and remote."

"O-kay…" House mumbles.

"And I would have won on my own if you'd let me keep that damned remote!" Chase screams at Cameron.

House looks up confused. "What are you talking…oh, the fight. What was tha…oh, wait. You didn't," House says incredulously.

"Yep, sure did!" Wilson says victoriously. "Of course, I was against it and had NO control over it whatsoever."

"Oh, shut UP, traitor!" House says seriously as he takes the remote out of his pocket and throws it on a chair.

"He gave me another remote – the remotes control every ball, which is kind of like a remote car you can make go anywhere you want," Cameron continues.

"Oh, so _you_ were the one screwing with my ball…making it stop like that!"

"Hey, titt for tatt, House!" Cameron says.

"But how did you bowl so well? You said you only bowled twice in your life, Chase," House notes.

"Yeah, well, about that, I lied. I bowled twice a week every week since I was 14, until I started medical school," Chase tells him.

"Loser!" House jests. "Is that why you never had dates on Saturday nights?"

"House, shut UP! They won fair and square," Cuddy says just as her phone rings.

She picks it up, says, "when" then hangs up. "Uh, it appears our patient died an hour ago," Cuddy says sadly.

"Oh, darnit! You mean all this was for NOTHING!" Foreman cries out.

"What did he die off, Cuddy?" Cameron asks her.

"Liver failure."

"Hot diggity damn!" House screams, while punching his fists in the air. "I WAS RIGHT! Give me a high-five! You all are losers!!"

"You're such a child, House," Cuddy tells him as she shakes her head.

House instantly gets serious and asks Cameron, "Wait, on certain balls, I could tell it wasn't working, yet I got a strike. Did you control the remote for _my_ ball to give me a strike?"

Cameron looks at House and winks her eye.

"Cameron, he was on the other team!" Chase sighs and plops down on a chair and shakes his head. "I should have known."

"Yeah, you should have, mate! She still _loves_ me…" House teases.

Chase narrows his eyes at House.

"She wants to _date_ me," House continues, doing his best Sandra Bullock from the pageant movie she starred in.

"And, for the icing on the cake….House, ask Cameron how much she paid for the remote," Chase tells him.

"Uh, how much?"

"Ten dollars."

"WHAT? You're kidding me!"

"Nope. And a date," she finishes.

"A date? "With you? Oh, please," House sniggers.

\/

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"No, a date with _you,_ he thinks you're cute. I think it's sweet," Cameron says teasingly.

THE END


End file.
